Bring Me Home, Necromancer
by darkwoodsdreamer
Summary: Remus has seen spirits as long as he can remember, helped them cross over since he was a boy. No one, not even his boyfriend, has ever known. His disguise can't survive the death, and subsequent return, of his murdered best friend. Sirius is raising his child now, and James won't leave until he talks to him. Remus isn't ready to be exposed, but who ever is? Non-magic AU


**AN: Here's another one shot instead of continuing the story that I haven't updated in months! And probably won't, ever again!**

 **Sorry, but it just was not planned enough at all for the kind of depth it required, and I don't have the energy for that due to my own health issues.**

 **Anyways, this has been sitting in my Folder Where Unfinished One-Shots Go To Die folder for quite a while, but I was too attached to it to just let it live there forever. I honestly don't remember what inspired it at all, it was so long ago that I started it.**

 **This is a non-magical AU, and also set in modern day Louth (and Poole, towards the end). No particular reason for the choice of those places, just how it ended up happening. I also have never been to England, so I could have picked the two worst places for this, I have no clue.**

 **Also, in this story James is half Indian, half Black, Remus is half Korean half Black, Lily and Peter were both white, making Harry half white, one quarter Indian, and one quarter Black. Malfoy is also white. It got complicated. I honestly cannot for the life of me remember what Sirius was supposed to be, so go with what you will. Remus is bilingual and Sirius I believe speaks four languages? None are related to his heritage, though, he just speaks four languages, because he's an asshole. Never decided about anyone else, they were the only two it was relevant for.**

 **That's all, I think. Enjoy!**

* * *

October was Remus' favorite month. The air outside was just cool enough, but not so cold that he needed a heavy coat. The leaves were changing, and a burst of wind would send a shower of color cascading down into the street. His fashion sense was always much better that time of year as well. Summer was awkward when one was covered in scars that were impossible to miss. Fall allowed him to cover up what he didn't like to show. Not to mention he just looked better in fall colors; at least according to Sirius. His warm umber tones matched the reds and oranges that were in style particularly well. Sirius could never resist buying him clothing with gold to "bring out his eyes". Remus thought this made him seem like the consort of a rich man; which, to be fair, was more or less his situation.

He spent as much time as he could outside that time of year. One of his favorite things to do, pretentious though it was, was to walk down to the local family-owned coffee shop and order a black coffee. He would walk around town with it, window shopping and nursing it until it was cold. Sometimes he brought Sirius or his mother on these excursions, but usually he preferred to be alone.

Yet October had come and passed, and as it left it'd taken his happiness and two of his best friends. He wasn't sure the month would ever feel the same again, or if he could ever celebrate Halloween again. It was no longer fall, but he continued his odd coffee tradition well into the winter months. He used the time to think, to remember. It had only been about a month and a half, maybe two months, since the attack on the Potters. Christmas was approaching, and he was trying to stay strong even though the sight of every ridiculous reindeer sweater and young couple holding hands hurt him. Remus knew he had other responsibilities and that people were counting on him, but it was too hard to move on. The reminders of what he had lost hung over him constantly. Sirius especially needed his help grappling with his sudden forced guardianship – but he just couldn't. He kept telling himself, tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the day when he would wake up and be able to function again. James wouldn't let him, though. Not quite yet.

Remus grimaced and fished in his pocked for his iPod, looking for a playlist to drown out his angry thoughts. Why did James have to be the one to come back? Why couldn't it have been Lily? He thought he would have given anything to have seen him again, but not like this. He was in pain; he was only here because he couldn't move on. Remus knew that Lily was out there, waiting for him somewhere, and James couldn't go to her. It was eating both of them up inside. James' outbursts were getting harder to hide as he grew more frustrated. Fear held him back from drastic measures, though. He'd lost so much already. He was terrified of losing anything more.

A light went out in the small shop next to him. The figure of a young man with rich, sepia skin seemed to glow from the shadow. His dark, tight curls were swept up into a messy ponytail at the back of his head. The man's glasses balanced precariously on the tip of his nose and he stared at Remus over the rims. His humorless eyes stared deep into Remus', as though seeing something inside him, beyond him. Remus shivered.

James winked out of sight, then reappeared too close for comfort, his chest an inch from Remus'. He tried not to react; he was used to this sort of thing. Ghosts had little sense of time or space, seeing as they were no longer confined to the rules that governed the rest of them. Still he couldn't help blinking and taking half a step backwards. Remus waited with baited breath, unsure if James meant to attack. Even through his anxiety, Remus had the absurd thought to snatch his glasses off his face. He glanced around to see if there was anyone else out on the street, should James try to speak to him. A few stragglers drifted on the other side of the road.

Laughter, loud and unsubdued, sounded from the bench behind him. James was doubled over, one arm reaching behind to support himself as he sank into the chair. Unnecessary for a ghost, of course, but James still acted remarkably human sometimes. He sucked in a few deep breaths before turning to Remus with a grin. "You're so easy." He snickered.

Remus refused to look him in the face. Instead he casually made his way over to the same bench and sat down. He looked around for a moment, breathing in the fresh air, before fishing a BlueTooth out of his pocket and sliding it into his ear. James looked on, waiting patiently. When Remus had himself settled and had pretended to make a call, he rounded on James. "That's not funny."

"I beg to differ." James snickered, leaning up against a tree a few feet away in a way Sirius had called his 'Too Cool for School' pose. Remus glared moodily at him. "It was probably one of the funnier things I've come up with. Also, you know no one is watching you that closely, right?"

Remus grumbled under his breath. "That's one of the signs of a volatile ghost. I thought something had gone wrong and you were going to attack me. It's fucking terrifying, you know that?" He tried to sound as harsh as he could without raising his voice so loud passerby would make out what he'd said. He completely ignored James' second teasing statement.

His tone had no effect on the cheerful young man. Well, ex-man. "Yep." Came his simple answer.

Remus shook his head. "Where are you picking all this up? Lord knows I didn't encourage it."

James rolled his eyes. "Alright, Mother." There was brief pause in conversation, where both stared the other down. Remus knew exactly what he wanted, but damned if he was going to be the one to bring it up. The day was no longer young, and the streets were starting to fill out with people coming home from school or work.

James broke their silence first. "About the whole Sirius thing…"

"We've had this discussion." Remus said, voice clipped.

"He has to know!"

"That you don't trust him?" He demanded. "That you think he's a danger to your child? That despite how hard he's worked and how he's been sober for over a year—"

The door of the diner across the street flew open and the lights outside the door went out. A few people jumped back, alarmed. "That's not at all why—", He tried to interrupt, an angry finger suddenly in Remus' face.

"But it's what he'll think." Remus cut him off. "He doesn't even know that I can do… this. What do you want me to say? 'Hey, you're best friend is back from the dead. He wants you to know that he can't move on until you don't care about…" He paused, and swallowed. "About what happened to him anymore?'"

James rubbed his eyes. "It's not like I want to be here, Remus. I want to be with Lily. I want to be at peace. But I _need_ to know that Harry's going to be okay. I need to know that Sirius can handle this."

"You named him godfather in the first place." Remus argued. "If you didn't think he could handle it—"

"Y'know, surprising as it may seem, I wasn't banking on being gunned down in my own house at 21." James said, arms crossed. Remus didn't have an argument for that. "At least… just pass on a message. If I can't talk to him, at least give me that. Maybe that'll be… I don't know, enough?"

Remus ran a hand through his hair. " _Geseki_." He swore under his breath. "Have you not been listening these past two weeks? Sirius. Doesn't. Know."

"Then tell him!"

"'Hi, honey. How was your day? Mine was fine. Full of all the ghosts I've always been able to see.'" Remus said sarcastically. He angled his body in the opposite direction and mimicked Sirius' lower, sing-songy voice. "That is a normal thing to hear from you and I completely believe you. I would also like to continue to date you and allow you near the child I'm raising.'"

When he turned back, James was gone. He huffed, resisting the urge to kick something. He jammed his BlueTooth back in his pocket and stomped on down the street.

James, of course, was right. Sirius was already beginning to think something was wrong with him. When they were young, it was easy. Remus could accept or deny invitations depending on whether or not he thought he would encounter a spirit. Now, it was harder to hide. They lived together. Ghosts would follow him home begging for help. James, in fact, had shown up for the first time next to their bed while Remus was stark naked. His first words to him had been, "That's gross, man." Remus had pulled on a pair of boxers and raced into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He rounded on the spirit, who'd told him everything; he already knew he was dead, and what he needed to cross over. He explained he was worried about how Sirius would take his death, and Peter's, and Lily's. Not to mention everything that had happened between them all. He'd had problems with alcoholism since they were teenagers. James wasn't confidant he could handle the trauma and a small child without turning to drink. If he was being totally honest with himself, Remus had similar thoughts as well. He wanted Remus to be the go-between for them, facilitate a conversation in which James could tell him how much he cared for him and how important it was to him that he raise Harry right. Then, he thought, he could move on. Remus, being tired and embarrassed and emotional, agreed without thinking.

Now he needed to find a way around it. He'd thought of taking Sirius to James' grave and confronting it himself, but how would that work? It would come off condescending, as though he was using the death of his best friend against him. He, like James, was also worried about Sirius' emotional state, and he didn't want to throw him off. He couldn't flat out tell Sirius what James was thinking. He didn't think it counted to tell him what James "would have wanted" or something else flaky like that either. There wasn't a realistic way to fake this.

Sirius had been raised in a superstitious family. Opening an umbrella inside was sure to get you in trouble with Walburga Black. Remus heard that Orion once shot his neighbor's black cat when it came into their yard. Sirius pretended as though he didn't hold with that sort of thing, but he always ducked around ladders and almost cried when he broke the bathroom mirror. He would flip out if he knew Remus' secret. How much longer could he hide?

He had almost forgotten about his coffee, until he spilled the now-cold liquid on himself. Grimacing, he chucked the empty cup in the nearest garbage and turned to go home. It was one of his favorites. If he weren't able to get it out before it set, Sirius would never allow him out in public in it again.

It was on his way home, halfway down the scenic road that lead to the cul-de-sac Sirius' house was on, that Remus met the last person he wanted to see. Besides James, of course. He usually wasn't feeling up to a conversation with Lucius Malfoy in general, but the Malfoy heir had a way of showing up when Remus least wanted to see anyone. It didn't help that Malfoy imagined some special connection with him, due to their shared ability to sense the beyond. For him, though, it wasn't so much the 'gift' as it was a particular sensitivity. He could sense the presence of a spirit, ascertain whether it was hostile or not, and occasionally if the spirit was particularly strong, he might catch snatches of speech. Small children usually could sense spirits better than Malfoy could, yet he decided that he was special and in some sort of higher class of advanced being with Remus. This "connection" between them had not been improved now that they were both raising (or dating someone who was raising, in Remus' case, although Malfoy didn't seem to understand the difference) children of about the same age. Malfoy's boy Draco was only a couple months older than Harry.

Malfoy and he had attended schools in the same area (He'd grown up far richer than Remus and therefore attended a local private school, and Remus the public school the next town over), and he'd always made it a point to single Remus out as a child for the burn scars that ran up his arms and across his chest and stomach, stopping just above his collar bone. They were remnants of a childhood spent abused by his late father, who attempted to kill Remus and his mother as a small boy when she learned that she was HIV positive, and had passed it on to their son. He'd done his best to keep such information very private, but by refusing to tell his story, boys like Malfoy made up their own stories and tormented him with them. It was during one such altercation that a vicious spirit, which Remus had seen and Malfoy had sensed and heard, attacked for their trespassing on his "territory", the location of his farmhouse which had burned down a few centuries ago. Ever since he'd suddenly attempted to become Remus' friend. He understood, of course, but had absolutely no desire to develop a relationship with the man.

He hoped beyond hope that Malfoy would pass without incident, but no such luck. He let out an audible sigh as Malfoy stopped Draco's stroller in front of the turn Remus had to make to get home, waving him over. He put on the friendliest look he could muster and approached slowly, dragging his feet slightly.

"Good afternoon, Remus." Malfoy said in a high, drawling voice. His accent was very posh, the signature accent of a man who'd grown up nearly as rich as Sirius had. Remus', by contrast, was an even, relaxed tenor which sounded mostly English, but if you listened close enough you could hear a hint of Korean that stuck with him from a childhood spent speaking only his father's language at home. He did his best to sound as stereotypically working class around Malfoy as he could, just to make him uncomfortable. Malfoy considered his 'old money' to make him inherently superior to others (even, contradictorily, to Remus) and he enjoyed the look of distaste that crossed his face whenever he opened up his mouth.

"Afternoon, Malfoy." He responded. "Lovely day for a walk, innit?"

Malfoy nodded, wrinkling his nose as expected. Remus fought down a grin. "Yes, Draco and I were just enjoying the air before we meet my wife for dinner with her parents."

"'Ow nice." Remus said, his voice a little too dry to sound sincere. Malfoy nodded, but said nothing more.

"You're off to Black's, I suppose?" he asked. Remus nodded. "And how is he doing? After – you know…" He dropped his voice to a whisper with a purposeful glance at his son, as though Draco would understand the concept of death at barely one and a half.

Remus shrugged. "Not bad, but not great. Staying strong for Harry's sake, isn't he?."

"Of course, of course." Malfoy cleared his throat, looking mildly uncomfortable and yet elated at the same time. Remus groaned internally; here it came. The inevitable over-dramatic discussion of the paranormal. "Remus, you haven't noticed anything… unusual, have you?" he asked, still keeping his voice low and glancing around him as though he feared being overheard.

Remus resisted rolling his eyes. "Such as?" he asked.

"You know what I mean." Malfoy whispered, raising an eyebrow. "Spirits. Have you?"

"Why? Have you?"

Malfoy looked even more uncomfortable. "I'm… not certain. I thought so, but I couldn't be sure. They don't usually come to me as I can't always hear them. I thought maybe you had said no to someone, and so they sought me out instead."

Remus immediately thought of James. He'd attended the same private school as Malfoy, and he wouldn't put it past him to torment the man just as soon as he'd figured out he was sensitive to his presence. He wasn't about to tell him that, though. The worst way to keep a secret was to tell it to a Malfoy. Lucius had a penchant for gossip, and telling him anything in confidence was a sure way to make sure the whole town knew. Not that Remus had a history of trusting Malfoy with anything.

"Can't say I've noticed anything myself." He lied. "Where've you been sensing it at?"

"Mostly around town, when I'm near that one coffee shop, the one Ms. Vane owns, or the library. Sometimes, out here in the residential areas. I shouldn't fear for Draco's safety, should I?" Malfoy seemed genuinely anxious at this, but Remus couldn't bring himself to care, knowing the truth about the identity of the spirit.

"Nah. I'll keep an eye out, though." Remus promised, waving once as he walked away. He could tell by the look on Malfoy's face he hadn't said all he meant to, but he didn't stop. He just wanted to go home.

Remus nearly ran the rest of the way. Sirius' car was in the driveway, but Remus still had to unlock the front door to get inside. Sirius realized very quickly that Harry knew how to open the door, and if he didn't keep it locked the young boy would open it whenever the mood struck and toddle out into the street. Thankfully they lived on a dead-end road with almost no cars, butthey both felt he was a little too young to go wandering the neighborhood by himself, and so the door stayed locked at all times.

He stepped inside and immediately kicked his shoes off. "I'm home!" he called, his voice practically echoing in the spacious foyer. The staircase to the second of three floors was immediately to his right, and there was a small balcony-like set up for the first couple of yards as it crossed the entrance hall. This made the ceilings here extremely high, and the room was already very open as it was. It was almost intimidating. Remus felt as though he could get lost in here; had, in fact, after he had first moved in.

"Upstairs!" Sirius called back, his voice faint and just barely discernable. He'd added on several additions to the house over the past couple of years since he'd inherited it, and the current one was all for Harry. It only had a frame, a floor, some walls, and a partial roof, but the two spent most of their time together in there. Sirius loved telling Harry again and again where his room would be, where his playroom would be, and his own personal bathroom. Remus personally thought this last bit was a bit much. There was already four bathrooms in the house, he could just have one of those, especially when he wasn't even potty-trained yet.

Remus took the stairs two at a time and quickly walked to the end of the long, somewhat windy corridor where the new additions were taking place. He pulled aside the plastic sheets and stepped in. Harry was holding on to the hole cut into one of the walls where the window would be and peering over the edge. He smiled at Remus when he was him come in. "Unc' Mooey!" he exclaimed, his best attempt at "Uncle Moony", a ridiculous nickname James had given him when he and Sirius got together. He called Remus' "the moon of Sirius' life" and wouldn't give up on the name. Eventually, it just stuck. Harry pointed a chubby finger at the rough hole. "Ou'side!"

Remus laughed. "Yes, there'll be a window there." He told him.

"Ou'side!" Harry repeated, before turning back to the window. Remus turned to greet Sirius, who was hovering protectively a few feet away. He leaned down slightly to give him a quick peck on the lips; Sirius wasn't short, standing at a healthy 6 feet, but Remus still had a few inches on him.

"Did you have a good time in town?" Sirius asked as Remus shed his sweater. He frowned at it. "What did you do?"

"Spilled some coffee." Remus replied. "I'll go throw it in the wash in a minute." He nearly wondered if he should bring up James now, get it over with. _No,_ he reconsidered, _not while Harry's in the room. I don't want to scare him if Sirius starts yelling._ He wasn't confident in how his boyfriend would take it all.

"Go do that now." Sirius insisted, pushing him gently back towards the entrance way. "Before it sets."

Remus laughed. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" he teased. Sirius only shoved him again.

They were disgustingly domestic, Remus thought as he descended the stairs to the first floor, crossing through the kitchen and through a practically hidden hallway that led to the garage. They acted like a middle aged straight couple most of the time recently, but Remus thought that was more to do with Sirius' stress levels and grief than anything else. He did his best to hide it during the day, but at night he would weep into Remus' shoulder and wake up screaming from nightmares. He supposed the way he "made up for it" was to try extra hard to make it seem as though they were a normal couple raising a normal child. There was nothing normal about either of them, but Remus didn't want to burst his bubble.

That was what made this situation so difficult, and what he didn't seem to be able to explain to the shade of James. He had a strong presence, which was evidenced by the fact that he was so much like his living self, and that Malfoy had been able to sense him. No ghost was ever quite their human counterpart, though. They had only a single goal, and their every move worked in selfish completion of it. It wasn't his fault; he couldn't do anything else but complete his transition to the next world, whatever that was, and Remus didn't blame him for it. It was hard not to be a little angry at the situation itself though, Remus thought as he tossed his sweater into the washer by itself. He dumped in a liberal amount of detergent and started it, then leaned back against the washer with his arms crossed across his chest. He supposed he could start slow; ask Sirius if he believed in spirits, as a sort of casual conversation topic, then move to if he believed people could actually see them. Then maybe recount experiences he'd had with ghosts, just the mild ones like seeing one without anything actually happening, to place the ideas in his head. After that, he could move to –

A quiet, echo-y voice was suddenly discernable barely an inch from Remus' ear. "Hey little momma, let me whisper in ya' ea—"

Remus jumped violently away from the sound, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep in a scream. James tossed his head back and laughed loud, a huge grin on his face. Remus was practically bowled over with a wave of sadness as his friend chuckled to himself, knowing he'd never see James laugh like that again if he helped him. He pushed the thought away immediately. He couldn't believe he'd thought it at all.

"What the fuck, Potter!" he hissed. "You nearly scared me half to death!"

"And then where would I be?" James drawled, still grinning. "I've got to keep you around, haven't I? At least until I can move on."

"Oh, is that all I'm good for, then?" Remus shot back, fighting back his good humored side and trying to hold onto righteous anger at James' prank. "That wasn't what you said when I—"

James held up a hand. "I'm going to have to stop you right there, on account of we both swore never to speak of that again."

"As long as we both shall live, if I remember correctly." Remus smirked. "From where I'm standing, I can shout it from the rooftops if I like."

James scowled. "If you do, I'll flip the bed while you and Black are going at it. Sure he'll have a few questions about that."

Remus ignored that. "Look, Prongs, I'm working on it. I thought I'd introduce him slowly, y'know, get him used to the idea of what I can do before I spring—"

He didn't let him finish his sentence. "And how long is that going to take?" he asked impatiently.

Remus hesitated. "I don't know. Two weeks, maybe, or three? After that I'll sit him down and—"

Once again, James interrupted him before he could finish. "Weeks?!" he shouted. Remus winced and glanced at the door, glad Sirius was unable to hear James. He'd always had a loud voice in general, but when he got angry even the walls in a great sturdy house like this would shake. "You expect me to wait around here when I could be comforting my newly deceased wife for WEEKS?!"

"For God's sake, James, you're fresh in the ground!" he whisper-shouted back. "It's not been two months since he buried you! Harry still cries out for you and Lily when he wakes up in the middle of the night, and asks for you all the time, and Sirius is the one who has to tell him every time that you're not coming back anymore. And you know how superstitious he is! You say you're so concerned about his mental well-being and how he's handling your death, but did you ever wonder what he would do if I told him you're still here? What it would do to him?!" He knew James couldn't understand this fully in this state, but once he started he couldn't stop until he'd said his bit.

It gave him pause, at least. "Why is your priority what he's going to think," He asked after a moment, "and not doing your job and getting me home?" It wasn't as hostile as before. Remus could hear a note of genuine confusion in his voice.

"Excuse me, my job?" Remus asked, leaning back. He wasn't insulted, not really, but he feigned distaste simply because he was angry with him. "I didn't realize I was getting paid for this. Someone should have told me sooner, I wouldn't have been so reluctant to do anything with my abilities." He leaned forward again. "I'm not obligated to do anything, Potter. I'm doing you a favor, because you're my friend, and because this will affect my boyfriend greatly. Could even help him deal with his grief, _but only if I do it right._ " He stressed. "The only way I can guarantee you that Sirius will be okay, that he won't relapse and that you've got nothing to worry about where Harry's concerned, is if you let me do my _real job,_ which is looking after my boyfriend, and my newly acquired…" Remus fished for the right word. What was he to Harry, anyways? "…dependent," he settled on, " _your son._ "

James had the decency to at least look ashamed, but Remus knew it was only his careful manipulation of his situation that had brought out that reaction in the shade. "I'll start it tonight, but it all depends on how fast Sirius takes to it, how fast I can get him to talk to you and then get you home." He said, a note of finality in his voice.

James nodded, unable to meet his eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself and then disappeared.

Remus sighed and went back upstairs. He figured he wouldn't hear from him again until tomorrow, but James would expect him to stick to his word now that he had promised to get the ball rolling. A sense of apprehension and dread filled him at the thought of actually telling Sirius that he saw and conversed with ghosts on a regular basis. There was no backing out now, though.

Later that night, after Harry had been put to bed, Remus and Sirius relaxed in their own bed with a book. It was a nightly ritual of theirs, to spend a half hour or so reading before bed. Remus wasn't sure why, but it was so strictly followed that even sex must wait. Remus had chosen a paranormal book in order to make his questioning about ghosts seem more reasonable. He'd not really been reading it, though. He just flipped through the pages, rehearsing everything he would say and going over every different path the conversation could possibly take in his mind. Sirius obviously wasn't fooled; Remus caught him watching him out of the corner of his eye a few times with a concerned look on his face. He pretended as though he hadn't seen, though, and doubled down his efforts to keep up the charade each time. He put his book down after he was sure he'd waited an acceptable amount of time and asked, as casually as he could muster, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Sirius glanced up, and Remus knew that at this point he was only pretending not to be concerned. "'Course." He answered.

"Really?" Remus pressed. "How're you so sure?"

"I've seen 'em." He responded casually, and Remus almost fell out of bed. Sirius looked at him curiously. "What, don't you believe?"

"Well, I mean…" he licked his lips nervously, "What do you mean, you've seen them?"

Sirius shrugged, putting his book aside now and stretching his arms over his head. "You know, the house I grew up in was pretty old. It's been in the family for ages. I swear some of my ancestors were still hanging around there."

"What'd they do?"

"Oh, not much." He said, waving a hand. "Banging on the walls and doors, footsteps in the hall, windows opening, that sort of thing. Mother thought so, too. Had the house exorcised once or twice, but they always came back."

Remus nodded. It was reasonable to assume his experiences were authentic, but he'd always questioned attempting to exorcise a ghost. In his experience it usually didn't work the first time, and it was much less effort to just do as they asked and send them on their way. "D'you think people can actually, yknow… talk to them and that sort of thing? The way mediums do on TV?"

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "I suppose it's possible. If they're hanging around, someone out there has got to have figured out a good way of talking to them."

"But like as an inherent gift? Where some people are just born being able to do it?"

He shrugged again. "I wouldn't know, I guess, since I don't have it." He hesitated before asking, "Why are you so worked up about all this?"

"Worked up? I'm not worked up, I don't know what you mean." Remus replied quickly, three octaves higher than his usual speaking voice.

"I can tell." Sirius drawled. He turned so that he was sitting criss-cross, facing him, and put a hand on his leg. "Really, love, why are you asking?

Remus hesitated, trying to think how to answer. "Just something that I've been thinking about the past couple of days, I suppose."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Because of…?"

"Yeah."

He hesitated again, massaging Remus' leg with his thumb. "Do you think either of them would? Stay behind, I mean? If they had the chance?"

"I think James would." Remus answered, careful how he phrased his response. "He was always such a worrywart. He'd want to be 150% sure that Harry would be alright."

Sirius nodded, looking down at the bed. "D'you think if he could change it, he'd still have me as Harry's godfather? After everything I p-put him through?"

Remus put his hand over Sirius', as the other man furiously blinked back tears. "Absolutely, without a doubt. Who else would he trust him to? It's not like either of them have family they could send Harry to, besides Lily's nightmare of a sister, and you were James' best friend. He trusted you more than anyone else."

"Don't know why." He bit out, his lower lip wobbling slightly. "I let him down. I promised I'd stop drinking and—"

"And now you have." Remus reminded him. "You're three months sober. He would be so proud of you, Pads."

That finished off Sirius' control. The tears started running freely down his face, and he collapsed into his lap, hugging him tightly around the waist as Remus stroked his hair, shushing him. No matter how many times they went through this, Remus would never adjust to seeing Sirius this way. He hadn't even cried when his father had beaten him so bad he broke a few bones, and threw him on the street. Not even when his younger brother, Regulus, was murdered. He experienced so much trauma in his life, and Remus guessed this just made one loss too many. Remus should have resented him for demanding so much emotional energy and comfort; in truth, he hadn't gotten the chance to ever grieve himself. He spend too much time looking after Sirius to ever even consider it. He locked his emotions all away, while Sirius expressed everything. Something, God knew what, stopped him from feeling any ill will. Maybe, he supposed, he just didn't feel anything at all anymore.

After a few minutes he picked himself up, wiping his eyes and sniffling. "I'm alright." He sniffed. "I just… I wouldn't even mind if he came back, y'know? Is that selfish? To want to drag him away from his peace just so I can hear him say for himself that he trusts me?"

 _It might be more likely than you think,_ Remus thought.

The next morning, Sirius was missing from bed by the time Remus' alarm went off. Usually on the weekend he would turn it off and sleep in a couple more hours, or perhaps wake Sirius up to spend some alone time together before Harry woke up, but he had to be dragged out of bed kicking and screaming most days. His internal alarms were screaming something was off. Remus jumped up, pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top before nearly rushing out.

He checked Harry's temporary room first, one of the guest rooms, thinking that he might have gone there to check on Harry. However, he was missing from his crib as well. Why had Sirius gotten up at the crack of dawn and taken Harry from his crib? He left the room and walked back through the winding corridor towards the stairs. He'd just past the doorway to his room when he smelled eggs and bacon, and relief swamped him as he took the stairs two at a time and found godfather and godson in the kitchen, eating breakfast together.

"Morning, love." Sirius said cheerfully around a forkful of eggs. "There's more on the stove if you want it." He gestured with his fork.

"It's 6:30 in the morning," Remus grumbled with a shake of his head, but he took a plate from the cupboard and scooped himself a small portion; he always found it hard to eat very much early in the morning. He ruffled Harry's hair as he passed, who looked up at him with a grin, and promptly missed his mouth with a handful of egg. Sirius chuckled at him, making Harry laugh and do it again on purpose. "Don't encourage him." Remus reprimanded Sirius. "And Harry, don't play with your food, please." Harry obediently put the next handful in his mouth instead of on his shirt.

"What's got you up so early?" He asked, turning back to Sirius.

"I've decided we're going to see James and Lily's graves today." He informed him. "They're in the Potter plot, remember, which is in Poole—"

Remus almost choked. "We're driving all the way to Poole, with no planning and no notice?"

"Did you have other plans today?" Sirius asked, blinking. Remus sighed; Sirius honestly didn't even stop to think that he might have plans. Which was a fair enough assumption, he supposed. Outside of James, Lily, Peter, and Sirius, Remus hadn't had any close friends. Now the only one left was Sirius.

"Well, no, but—"

"There you are, then."

"But Sirius, Poole? It's a five hour drive from Louth!"

"And that's precisely why we're up so early." Sirius smiled, and Remus knew there was no talking him down. Besides, he figured he could use this. Neither of them had been to their graves since the funeral, and to see Sirius initiating it meant that he was in a better place regarding his death. The more stable he was, the easier it would be to introduce him to the idea that he wasn't quite as gone as Sirius thought. "Eat up, if we leave soon, we can be there by noon."

Remus hesitated, but he slowly continued to eat his breakfast and said nothing more about it.

"On second thought, maybe this wasn't a great idea." Sirius grumbled, slouching down in his seat. They were still an hour out from the graveyard, and Remus had just taken over driving. Harry had been crying for the past forty minutes despite all efforts to get him to sleep or to at least shut up, and both of their nerves were starting to fray.

"Hm." Remus said shortly. "I was right. Imagine that."

Sirius shot him an annoyed look, but didn't press the subject. "Take this exit."

"I thought it was the next one—"

"The map says this exit Remus, so please just…" Harry let out a particularly loud wail, and Sirius leaned forward, rubbing his temples. "God, Harry, please, just go to fucking sleep." He said.

Remus reached over with one hand to smack him on the arm. "Don't swear around the baby!"

"I wouldn't have to swear if he'd just fucking listen to me the first time." He muttered, reaching into the diaper bag at his feet and rooting around. After a minute of searching he retrieved a pacifier, and leaned over the back of the seat to pop it in Harry's mouth. Immediately his cries died off to concentrate on sucking on the binky, and within minutes had drooped off.

Remus shook his head incredulously. "You couldn't have done that half an hour ago?"

After another agonizing hour, they finally arrived in Poole and found their way back to the correct graveyard. They discovered they really had gotten off at the wrong exit ("Hmm! Imagine that!" "Shut UP, Lupin!") fairly quickly, and stopped at the nearest gas station to ask directions to the funeral home where Lily and James' services had been held. When Remus asked why they couldn't just ask for directions to the graveyard itself, Sirius answered, "Because I can remember how to get there from the funeral home, and I have to preserve my fragile sense of masculinity by making myself feel like I figured out how to get there without any help."

They eventually managed to find the correct graveyard. Remus parked the car on the side of the road near the graveyard, and retrieved a still-napping Harry from his car seat while Sirius got the diaper bag. "D'you think we'll need the stroller?" He asked, shoving everything he'd torn out during the car ride back in haphazardly, to Remus' dismay.

Remus shook his head. "No, he can walk or be carried. It's not far." He took the pacifier from Harry as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and set him down. "Take my hand, love." He told the little boy, providing him with enough support that he could step over the curb. After they were past the gates, he let go of his hand and let Harry walk beside them on his own, slowing his own steps so the unsteady toddler could keep up.

Sirius was beginning to look nervous the closer they got to the site. Remus took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "Are you alright?"

Sirius nodded. "Only a little nervous. It's been a while since we were here." He fidgeted with the strings of his sweater. "You don't think they'll be mad we didn't visit sooner, do you?"

"Course not." Remus waved away his concern, grabbing Harry's hand again to keep him from getting distracted by the animal statue over the closest grave. "They know how far we live from here. They won't judge us for taking a while to get down here." Sirius nodded, but he didn't look entirely convinced. "And if James gets testy you can just tell him to shove off and stop being a prat."

"I heard that." James said moodily from the headstone directly in front of them. "I'm not testy. Or a prat."

 _You're absolutely both,_ Remus thought to himself, not acknowledging he'd noticed his presence.

Sirius chuckled. "That I could. Might come off a little insensitive though. 'Sorry you were murdered but if you could stop being such an ass that would make my life a little easier.'"

"What did I say about swearing?" Remus reprimanded for what must have been the hundredth time that day. "When Harry starts using that sort of language in public, don't come crying to me 'bout it."

Sirius shoved him playfully, and they both laughed. He reached down and scooped Harry up so they could walk a little faster than snail's pace. After a minute, Remus spotted the Potter site. "There," he pointed out the first looming headstone, with the word 'POTTER' carved in large letters. It was a very old stone, and the words were worn so much you could barely read the names of the Potter ancestors buried there. They both sucked in a breath before turning in and making their way to the back, where the newer stones were. The family was very old money, and even the stones that were so old and worn they couldn't be read were large and fancy. James and Lily were on one side of a large statue of an angel bowing its head in prayer, its wings folded against its back. The side to their right had James' parents, and directly across from them were his paternal grandparents, whom neither Remus nor Sirius had ever met. The side to the left was empty; Remus supposed, with a start, Harry would be buried there when he died. He reached over to put his arm on Harry's back, instinctively putting a barrier between the empty plot and the baby. Sirius tightened held Harry closer, but whether that was for comfort or because he shared his bizarre thought, Remus wasn't sure. He thought suddenly, and perhaps even more oddly considering where he was, that this was the first time he'd felt any sort of paternal obligation towards him. He'd never thought of himself as Harry's true guardian, or as though he was really part of the baby's life. Immediately he felt awful that he dared to let that idea cross his mind, standing in front of the boy's dead parents.

Remus forced himself to concentrate on the graves of his friends, and walked around so that he stood in front of them. He was careful to walk around the raised mounds of snow, knowing Sirius might actually scream if he stepped on their graves accidentally. He knelt down and smiled a sad smile as he read their stones:

 _James Potter_

 _Loving Husband, Father, Son, and Friend_

 _Born 27 March, 1994_

 _Died 31 October, 2015_

 _Lily Potter_

 _Loving Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, and Friend_

 _Born 30 January, 1994_

 _Died 31 October, 2015_

"Hi guys." He greeted them. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see James sitting next to where Lily's body was, a hand resting over the lump that was her. "Sorry it took us so long to get down here. We brought Harry, though. Thought you would like to see how he's getting on."

Sirius handed Harry down to him, and Remus sat him on his leg, carefully balanced so they wouldn't topple over into the snow. Harry looked up and grinned at something just to the right of the headstone. "Dada!" he announced with glee, reaching for what Remus realized with a sense of dread was James. He could see him. James looked noticeably startled as well.

"He can see me?" he asked Remus, who looked wide-eyed between Harry and James. He opened his mouth to reply before clamping it firmly shut with a look up at Sirius, who also seemed surprised. "Oh, right, you can't talk." James said. "Hey there, Harry. Be quiet now, yeah?"

Sirius crouched down next to them. "Does he remember this place?" Sirius asked, seeming baffled. Remus shook his head.

"I don't know. He must. I didn't think he stopped bawling long enough to take any notice of where we were the whole ceremony." Remus answered, meeting James' glance again for just a split second before looking away. Sirius frowned.

"He's not even looking at the grave either, more off to the side." Harry was still wiggling, attempting to get out of Remus' arms to go and greet his father. He was barely processing what Sirius was saying to him, trying to keep the boy in his arms without being too obvious about not letting him walk about in plain view, and cursing his luck. He knew children were much more sensitive to ghosts, but Harry had never shown signs of noticing James' presence before. Perhaps here at the graveyard, his presence was strong enough for Harry to pick up on him. Sirius, however, obviously didn't despite the power boost being so near his physical form gave James.

"You don't think he's here, do you? Do you think Harry's seeing his… his ghost, or something?" Sirius asked with apprehension, just as James said, "Let him up, if Sirius sees, he'll save you the trouble of starting the conversation."

"I… I don't know," was the best Remus could answer. He couldn't lie in front of James, but his brain was still racing, trying to find a way to get out of doing this now. "God, I hope not." He couldn't stop himself from saying. "Imagine what he'll be like when we leave."

Sirius shook his head. "Poor tot." he said. "If Harry can see him, I bet I could talk to him." Sirius mused, and Remus hoped to god James hadn't heard that. "No, but then, how would I know what he was saying back? It's a bad idea."

That, he definitely heard. "Remus, please." James nearly shouted, seeing the frozen look on his face. "Just let me go home!"

Just as simple as that, James broke what little composure Remus had. He half snarled, half choked, "I'm not doing this and especially with Harry here, so just stop pressing—" he cut himself off, realizing with horror he'd made the mistake of responding to the wrong person, and swiveled his head to see Sirius' reaction.

There was a pause. "Well now you've done it." James said gleefully. Harry began to whine now, pulling at Remus' hands with his own tiny ones.

"The… what?" Sirius questioned slowly. "Remus, what are you talking about, what can't you do with Harry…?" Cursing himself, he tried to think of a way to save this, but he could barely think anything aside from _I fucked up, I fucked up so bad and now he knows and I've ruined everything, this wasn't how I wanted him to find out, oh God oh God—_

"You weren't talking to me, where you?" It was phrased like a question, but it came out as a statement. "Remus… what's going on?"

"Dammit." Remus muttered. He clutched Harry tighter to his chest, causing the little boy to squirm harder. "Alright look, Sirius, I didn't mean to keep anything important from you, I was just trying to find the right time, I didn't want to upset you after everything that's happened and I just thought that it was more important that you settle down with… with Harry, and the get sorted out emotionally—"

Sirius placed his hands on his knees and Harry stopped struggling for a moment, looking up at them with wide eyes. Tears were shining in his eyes now, and a few fell down his cheeks. "I see spirits?" he confessed in a tiny voice. James reappeared closer to them, reaching out a hand to Harry and watching Remus. Harry grabbed it and reached up to him, but Remus pushed his arm down before Sirius could notice.

"What do you mean, you see spirits?" Sirius pressed him, confused. "Remus, why would you say—why wouldn't you have mentioned this before?"

"Don't be afraid." James urged him. He didn't hide his turning to look at him now. What was the point when Sirius had already found out about him? "It's who you are. Claim it. Slap him across the face with your powers." Remus let out a choked bark of laughter at that mental image. "Remember when he asked you out, and you said before anything happened, he had to know you were HIV positive?" Remus nodded. He'd been so scared he was going to ruin everything between them back then, but he couldn't justify keeping it to himself anymore. "If you could do that with your shoulders squared, you can do this." He nodded again, taking a shaky breath.

Sirius between him and the approximate area where James was, following his gaze to what appeared to him to be thin air. "Are you talking to one right now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I, uh, actually…" He sucked in another steadying breath. "Don't get upset or anything, but I'm talking to James."

He only stared at him for a minute. "James? He _is_ here? James is here, talking to you, right now?" he licked his lips nervously, and Remus felt his hand twitch against his knee. He wondered with a bizarre stab of amusement if he was trying to resist the urge to do the sign of the cross.

"I swear to God if he does the sign of the cross, I'll smack him." James said, rolling his eyes. "Superstitious prat." Remus snorted.

Sirius squinted. "What?"

Remus let Harry up finally, realizing how futile holding him down was any longer. James would say something, he figured, if he wandered off. He reached for James to pick him up, but he didn't. "Sorry, love, I can't hold you." He sat fully in the snow now, and Harry plopped himself into his lap happily, or at least where it would be, babbling interspersed with random words.

Remus looked back to Sirius, who was watching Harry with an odd expression on his face. "James, he said… he said if you do the sign of the cross, he'll smack you." Sirius turned back to stare at him for one disbelieving moment, and then he began to laugh.

"That's the absolutely worst thing you could've said, mate." He exclaimed in a watery voice. "Here I am, grieving your death, and you threaten me with physical violence." He looked over at Harry, expression still unsure. Remus grinned too. He supposed that with Sirius' superstitious upbringing and the undeniable evidence in the form of young Harry, he'd been a little stupid to think he'd flat out call him crazy.

James shrugged, smiling just as wide as the two of them. "Look on the bright side, I could have threatened to take you with me." He shot back.

"He says you should be happy he didn't threaten to take you with him."

"Take me where? It's not like you've gone anywhere."

"You can kill us both and we'll all be Harry's ghost-parents. I'm sure no one else at school will be able to say they've got three ghosts raising them." Remus supplied helpfully.

Sirius smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at Remus. His face was a mess of tear stains and his nose was red and running, but his eyes were bright with cheer and his voice was unbroken. "I've always wondered what ghost-sex would be like."

"Not in front of the baby."

James scoffed. "Look how big he is! He's practically a man now." He held out his fingers for Harry to hold and stand up, which he somehow managed to grab. After he'd stood, though, Harry let go and toddled over a little snowman next to one of the neighboring plots. "Look at that! He couldn't do that a few months ago!" he said, as though this was evidence of Harry's manliness.

"Just because he can walk that doesn't make him a man." Remus informed him. James waved a hand.

Sirius laughed again, filling in the blanks. "Yeah, well, James was ready to get married when he was 13, he obviously doesn't quite grasp that concept."

"Gotta live life in the fast lane when you're slated to die at 21." James dropped with a casual shrug. The humor dropped from Remus' face. Sirius blinked at him.

"What'd he say?" he asked, eyebrows wrinkling in concern.

Remus cleared his throat. "Uh, he said, 'Gotta live life in the fast lane when you're slated to die at 21.'"

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Tasteful." He commented with a frown.

James leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. "On that note. Down to business. Remus, you'll translate, yeah?"

"'Course."

"Right then." He cleared his throat, unnecessary as he didn't have an actual throat that needed clearing. Habit, Remus supposed. "Basically, it comes down to this – I don't want you to think I don't trust you, mate. Really, I do, with my whole heart and soul. But I need to know that you'll be okay. You've got to promise me you won't even look at a bottle of whiskey. Not even a glass of white wine. You've got a kid to think about now, and he's always got to come first." James pointed to where Harry was gleefully kicking at the small snowman, barely making a dent in the base with his tiny foot. He toppled over after a particularly hard kick, and struggled a bit to get back on his feet. He didn't fuss though, and returned dutifully to his task. James motioned for Remus to relay.

Remus turned back to the conversation. "He says… it was a lot, but basically he trusts you, but he wants you to swear off alcohol for good. Not a drop. And that Harry's always got to come first, no matter what."

"Of course." Sirius said immediately. "I… I couldn't ever drink again. I've done too many stupid things while drunk, I've hurt too many people. I'm learning to cope without it." He reached over and took Remus' hand. "You're got Moony to thank, too. Without him, I don't know where I'd be right now."

"Passed out in a ditch." James supplied helpfully, and Remus shot him a withering look. He didn't relay that as Sirius continued on.

"I love Harry, too. He's… all I've got left of you, and of Lily. He's my world, now."

James smiled wide. "He's mine, too." He watched Harry again for a minute. "That's what having a kid is like. They demand your whole heart, and you give it to them. And if they crushed it into dust you'd still thank them just for being in your life."

"He says that having a kid is like giving them your heart and even if they crush it, you'd still be grateful." Sirius nodded.

James reached out hesitantly to him, then looked at Remus, who nodded encouragingly. He placed a hand gingerly on his knee, as though he was scared his touch would hurt him somehow. His eyes widened and his head whipped around to stare at it, then to Remus with a mixture of terror, grief, and delight, then back to his knee. "Is that…?" Remus squeezed his hand. "Jamie…"

"You're his dad now, Pads. And Remus, you too. He's… he's your son. He won't even remember me." James' voice broke a little here. "I just... You got to understand, I'm trusting you with my whole world. Don't let me down."

Remus didn't know if could say that out loud without his own voice betraying him. His words touched him. He hadn't even thought of himself as anything close to just Harry's guardian until maybe 15 minutes ago. Now James was just handing him over. Could he really be Harry's dad?

"He," Remus paused and licked his lips, "He said… that we're his dads now. He said that he's our son, because Harry won't remember him, and that he's trusting us and not to let him down."

Sirius seemed just as shocked as he was. "I. Of course, yeah, mate, you don't even have to say it." Sirius lifted a hand to wipe his eyes. "I can't… thank you, Prongs. It means… so m-much…" He trailed off, but James didn't need any more. He looked over at Remus.

"I'd be crying if I had tear ducts." He joked.

Remus smiled a watery smile. "You cleared your throat when you don't have one." He pointed out.

"Point taken." James looked back at Sirius, who was watching Remus for any translations. "I don't want to hug him, I think that'd be too much but… I can't leave without giving him something."

Remus nodded. "Agreed, on both counts."

James chewed his lip for a second. Then he reached out and put his hand over his, and Sirius looked down at it with the same wide-eyed, almost disbelieving expression as when he'd touched his knee. He slowly lifted his hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to his knuckles, not a kiss, but simply holding it there. Sirius sucked in a breath as he realized he was touching James' face, and Remus was struck by the sort of connection they had. He didn't always know what to do when Sirius was upset, or how to touch him, but James always did. He'd always known just what to do to and what the right boundaries to push were and when. Remus almost envied him this.

James stood and walked over to where Harry was playing a few yards away. "D'you think I can…?" he asked Remus as Harry reached to be picked up again.

Remus shrugged. "Might as well try." James nodded and picked Harry up off the ground with the same caution he'd had touching Sirius. Harry shifted, looking uncomfortable. Remus guessed he could feel the same thing Remus felt when a ghost touched him, and the same thing that had given Sirius that questioning look in his eyes; a strong sense of their physical presence, but the unshakeable feeling that something was very wrong with their touch. James walked gingerly back over to them. He kissed Harry's head, burying his face in his messy curls. "I love you so much, son." Remus stood up now too, and motioned for Sirius to do the same. James turned his head to the side, resting his cheek atop his curls, and looked between them. "Don't ever let him forget that. Tell him every day, how much his mother and I love him."

"He says to tell Harry every day how much he and Lily love him." Remus told Sirius, putting an arm around his shoulder. Sirius nodded.

"We will." He promised.

James leaned towards Sirius, holding Harry out slightly. Remus leaned his head down and whispered, "He's passing Harry to you," remembering again how bizarre this must all look to Sirius without being able to see James. Harry began to reach for him, and Sirius reached out his arms to take him. He shuddered as he brushed against James, and held Harry close, rocking him slightly.

James smiled suddenly as he looked over their shoulders, and Remus turned to look in that direction as well, but saw nothing. "There it is," James said softly.

"The light?" Remus asked. He nodded. "Well, go on then." He said, nodding towards it. James nodded.

"So long Pads, Moony."

Sirius blinked. "I heard that!" he said urgently. He shook Remus' hand up and down. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and he whispered again, "I heard him!"

"Well don't be rude, say something back!" He nudged him.

"Right. Later, Prongs. Raise some hell… wherever you're off too." Sirius said, grinning. James nodded.

"Daddy's got to go now, Harry." James told the child.

Harry waved at him, opening and closing his fingers, but pointing at himself rather than at James. "Bye-bye."

James chuckled. "Bye, son."

"We'll miss you." Remus said, feeling tears spring to his eyes as he thought of the last time he saw James genuinely laugh, down in his basement as he desperately tried to convince him he'd help him soon but that he just needed more time. He quickly wiped them away. "Tell Lily Harry misses her, and that we love her too."

"But don't tell her I told you to cause trouble." Sirius interjected quickly. "She'll kill me when I catch up to you guys."

James looked at him sternly. "Don't even think about it until Harry is grown and moved out and gotten a good education and is financially secure." He warned. Sirius didn't seem to have heard that one, so Remus relayed it and Sirius scoffed jokingly, but nodded.

He clapped them both on the shoulders before walking around them. He turned back just once to wave, and then he was gone and the light with it, and Remus felt like he'd just heard the news about his death all over again. He pulled his boyfriend in tight, their son enveloped in their hug between them. Eventually Harry began to protest, and so they pulled back and let him down.

They walked back through the graveyard with Harry walking in between them, each holding a hand. Instinctively, as all children do, he jumped and as all parents respond, Sirius and Remus held him in the air and swung him for a step before lowering him back to the ground. Harry squealed in delight each time. "What do you think he should call us?" Remus asked, beaming down at the small boy.

"What do you mean?" Sirius looked up at him finally, his gaze having been glued to Harry ever since they'd begun their walk back.

"James said we should be his dad's now. Feels like we should mark the honor with new titles, doesn't it?"

Sirius thought about this for a moment. "Neither of us can be Dada. That's what he called James."

Remus wrinkled his nose. "And imagine when he's a teenager. If he's calling one of us Dada he'll be the laughing stock of the whole school."

"What about… just Daddy for me? He'll call me Dad when he's older, I imagine." Remus nodded. "And you… you strike me as a Papa." Sirius said, stroking his chin in thought with his free hand.

Remus considered this as they lifted Harry to be swung again. "Too American. How about Abba?"

"Is that the Korean word for father?" Sirius asked.

"Mm, sort of. The actual word for father is 'abeoji'. Abba is more like 'dad'."

Sirius nodded. "Daddy and Abba. I like it." He stated with a nod that had an air of finality.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Glad you're signing off on it."

"Now that we're parents we have to run everything regarding our son by each other." Sirius informed him. Remus just shook his head again. "Does this mean we're teaching him Korean, then?"

Remus honestly hadn't considered that. "Oh. Well, I suppose we could. My heritage is his heritage now, I suppose. As long as he still knows his own. He's got to know about being Indian as well. And Black. What a hodgepodge."

Sirius nodded, then frowned. "I suppose I'll have to learn Korean now." He sighed. "Can't have you two talking about me behind my back."

"Stop acting like it's some great hardship. You taught yourself French, Spanish, and German."

"My mother practically raised me and my brother bilingual, we were both fluent in French from an early age, that's hardly teaching myself." He pointed out "And that meant I was prepared for both another Romance and Germanic language. This is a whole other language family!"

Remus shrugged. "You don't have to learn it." He said airily. "You could just let Harry and I gossip about you. I can't promise not to tell him all the embarrassing things you did as a kid, either." Sirius pouted, making Remus laugh. "Besides, we'll both have to figure out how to give him his Indian heritage."

"Our kid is White, Black, Indian, and now almost Korean. Talk about confusion." Sirius shook his head sympathetically.

Remus called shotgun for the first half of the journey, hoping to get a couple hours of napping in, and Harry babbled happily to himself as he snacked on Chex Mix in the back seat. He couldn't help but wonder if they had just undid all the work they had done to help Harry accept his new life with Sirius, if he would ask for Dada, cry for him, have nightmares. Some instinctive feeling told him it would be alright. Harry wouldn't, in fact, even remember the encounter after today, but he would no longer cry for his parents or babble about them. How he knew this he couldn't say. _When one sees dead people, one learns not to question gut feelings_.

Remus turned back to look just once, and then they were gone.

* * *

 **AN: Yes, I know I never explained why James and Lily and Peter died. And Regulus. It's because I didn't care. Sorry. It just wasn't relevant enough to the plot, since I decided it wasn't going to factor into the reason James didn't move on. I also don't know enough about English hate groups to come up with any realistic substitute for the Death Eaters. If you think of something good, I hereby declare it canon.**


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